


we make our own luck in this world

by orphan_account



Series: BBS drabbles [11]
Category: Banana Bus Squad
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Friends to Lovers, Identity Reveal, Jaren knows, M/M, Romance, Secret Identity Fail, Tension, uh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:42:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26210590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Smitty,” John growls, and a noise halfway to a laugh bubbles in Jaren’s throat. It’s so easy, now that Jaren knows, to tell that John’s deliberately dropping his voice an octave, placing himself firmly in the role of Kryoz. “I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence.”Another hysterical laugh builds in Jaren’s throat. He knows John’s reluctant, halfway-joking sigh, and it’s so close. He knows the way John’s lips fall open, the way he always rolls his head to the side to watch Jaren’s reaction.Jaren thought he knew John.[title from "Young Blood" by Bea Miller]
Relationships: John | KryozGaming/SMii7Y
Series: BBS drabbles [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/748089
Comments: 9
Kudos: 77





	we make our own luck in this world

**Author's Note:**

> we in the krii7y discord couldn't decide whether enemies to lovers or friends to lovers was the better trope, so I wrote a drabble that's both :)

John is standing on top of Maze Bank when Jaren arrives, stepping off of a Vanoss jet that peels away as noiselessly as any plane can. He stands across the circular top of the building, wound as tightly as a tiger in the ring, as if the edge of the building is physically trapping him. He doesn’t make a move towards Jaren, watching the younger take a few faltering steps closer to the center of the building, but the veins in his hands are straining, and the air dips and pockets around John, brushing his clothes into movement.

Jaren’s about to get punched by John.  _ John _ , the idiot who once bit into a half-frozen Hot Pocket because he was distracted by petting Octavia. 

There’s a headache forming at the back of Jaren’s skull.

“Smitty,” John growls, and a noise halfway to a laugh bubbles in Jaren’s throat. It’s so easy, now that Jaren knows, to tell that John’s deliberately dropping his voice an octave, placing himself firmly in the role of Kryoz. “I’m glad you decided to grace us with your presence.”

Distracted, Jaren loses the thread of the dialogue Kryoz is trying to start. He flounders. “Um.” He’s facing John, trying to fall into the easy banter he shares with Kryoz, and just cannot catch up. John shuffles, confused by the awkward silence, and they both stare for a moment, both out of their depth, unprepared.

John recovers first, almost certainly because he doesn’t know it’s Jaren he’s facing down, doesn’t know that it’s his best friend he’s been playing high-stakes superheroes-and-villains with for the better part of two years. “I gotta be honest with ya: I expected more resistance. Normally I can’t step into the city, much less reach this building, without Vanoss’s helicopters swarming me. Seems like ya might be losing your edge, ‘ey buddy?” He steps closer to the edge of the building, looking down critically as though examining it, and Jaren is overwhelmed by the weighty desire to yank him back from the drop. Two weeks ago, he probably would have drop-kicked him over the edge.

“Maybe by now everyone’s just realised you’re all talk,” he replies, and John sighs overdramatically. Another hysterical laugh builds in Jaren’s throat. He  _ knows _ John’s reluctant, halfway-joking sigh, and it’s so close. He knows the way John’s lips fall open, the way he always rolls his head to the side to watch Jaren’s reaction. Jaren  _ thought _ he  _ knew _ John.

John waves his hand, and even across the roof Jaren can see the current of air rush past him, curling at John’s side like a trained dog waiting for a command from its master. 

There’s only two rings on his fingers, and neither of them is the one he wears daily, the first one Jaren got him. His favourite. For some reason, that stings.

God, what a mess.

“Should I refresh their memories, then? Give them something to fear?” John tacks a chuckle onto the end of his question, and Jaren can’t help it. The disquieted feeling that’s been stewing in his chest boils over, spilling out into crazed laughter. It’s so cliche, so dumb, and Jaren can picture the affronted look on John’s face under his mask. It only makes him laugh harder, that shrieking laughter that usually makes John grin, and he has to brace his hands on his knees.

“Uh… did you hit your head on the way here, dude?” John asks, and Jaren can tell he’s starting to lose his grip on the Kryoz character. He’s still bent over, though, and he can feel tears sliding down his face, slick and wet under his mask. Doubled over, he’s just hoping John doesn’t take the opportunity to try to shove him off of the building. That’d kind of ruin the moment.

“You are…” Jaren sputters, clutching his stomach as he rights himself. “You’re the stupidest man I’ve ever met, what the  _ fuck _ , John!” He’s still wheezing, trying to face John with the horrendously large grin still splitting his face.

John freezes, though, a frosty look cutting across his face. The air around Jaren seems to solidify, grow thicker. “How do you know that name,” he spits. The density trick is one he’s used before, one that Jaren always manages to dance his way out of, but he lets John have it for now. He’s not here to fight, even for as much as John is still trying to provoke him.

“You want a cat, and your apartment doesn’t allow pets but you’re considering sneaking one in anyway. Last week you used the wrong kind of laundry detergent and now half your clothes are pink. Fucking  _ fuck _ , John, I’ve seen your ass before, how could I  _ not _ know your name.”

John’s staring, speechless, and Jaren sighs, takes pity. He can hear the gears turning in John’s head, the last thread of connection an inch too short to understand what he’s hearing. 

Jaren grabs for the bottom of his mask.

He ignores John’s quiet, hesitant noise, and yanks the floppy silicone off of his face. He’s a hot, sweaty mess, still covered in drying tear tracks, but John recognises him. Stumbles back a step. Even behind his mask Jaren can see his eyes widen.

“But like, I’m willing to compromise and say we’re both idiots, cause I didn’t realise it was you unti, like, three days ago.”

“Jaren?” It’s barely more than a whisper, and idly Jaren wonders if it’s only because of John’s powers that he can even hear him across the rooftop. 

“Surprise?” he says, shrugging a little. He’s rocking forward on the balls of his feet, wanting more than anything to cross the rooftop, to  _ go _ to John, but before he can move, John’s coming to  _ him _ , striding forward in long, intimidating steps, yanking his mask off.

For just a second, Jaren considers that maybe he made a mistake. That maybe that’s  _ Kryoz _ and not John, the supervillain who’s been trying to kill Jaren for two years and not the dork who makes gay jokes while hanging upside-down off of Jaren’s couch.

He grabs Jaren's suit and hauls him into a kiss.

At first, Jaren doesn’t respond. Can’t. He’s too surprised to do anything but stand there and let John lick into his mouth, but then John’s movements hesitate, hands loosening from their hold on Jaren’s hips. Jaren kisses back.

His hands fist in John’s hair, dragging the bastard down to deepen the kiss, gasping against his mouth. John’s hands drop low, cupping Jaren’s ass, before sliding up his shirt, tracing up his spine. Huffing quietly, Jaren slides his knee in between John’s legs, earns himself a groan in response.

He snickers into John’s neck, pressing a kiss to his pulsepoint before sighing. “God, you’re lame,” he mumbles, still grinning into John’s skin.

“Oh, says fuckin’ you,” John replies immediately, setting off another round of giggles from Jaren.

Still huffing with laughter, Jaren pulls back to look at John’s flushed, amused face. “ _ Not _ that I’m upset, but does learning your best friend is a superhero get you hot or what?” 

“Can I take back that kiss?” John rolls his eyes, but Jaren’s already shaking his head, pushing up to his toes to press a kiss to the corner of John’s mouth, right at the curve of his cheek where a smile forms. “I just…” He trails off, meeting Jaren’s eyes when he pulls back. “I mean, fuck, dude, I’ve liked you since forever, I just never thought I could go through with it when my job is trying to level the city every other week. Didn’t think you’d already know about that part, to be honest.”

“I get it,” Jaren says. He meets John’s eyes, tries to convey  _ exactly _ how much he understands what’s running through his head. “I’ve got enemies, and I never wanted you getting tangled up in that shit. Except you were the one doing the tangling, dickbag.”

John snorts out a laugh. “Always, baby. How’d you find out, anyway?” His hand drifts over the swell of Jaren’s hip again, thumb pressing into the V of his hipbone. 

Jaren shivers, snagging a few of his fingers to lace their hands together, rub his thumb over the slightest tan line on John’s first finger, the spot he knows a ring sits for the rest of John’s day, the rest of John’s  _ life _ . “You accidentally left my ring on the last time we fought, and I didn’t think it was very likely a coincidence, so I kinda staked out your place, and sure enough, who drops in the kitchen skylight but  _ the _ Kryoz?”

He grimaces, but there’s a fond sort of amusement in John’s eyes as he wiggles his fingers in Jaren’s sure grip. “I wasn’t trying to hide anything, I just- I couldn’t let it get lost or damaged during a fight, y’know?”

“I wouldn’t blame you for hiding it,” Jaren admits, “but I’m still glad I found out.” He stills in John’s steady hold as something occurs to him. “I- yeah, that whole luck-prediction-magic thing really comin’ in clutch, huh?”

John laughs along with him this time, nose nudging the side of Jaren’s face as he tips his head up to chuckle. “I mean… Jaren, I can’t help but notice you only wanted to get with me once you found out I was Kryoz…” He’s drawling, using that hyperbolised voice he does when he’s starting a bit, and Jaren’s pursing his lips before John can even start the line that’s making himself grin.

“You just want me for my built-in air conditioning.”


End file.
